


pretty people

by rmaowl



Series: january [23]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Awkwardness, Colors, Developing Relationship, F/F, Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Gay Panic, Grocery Shopping, Grocery Store, Human Allura (Voltron), Human Shay (Voltron), Jewelry, Lesbian Allura (Voltron), Lesbian Character, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Love at First Sight, Names, Nicknames, Pet Names, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Discussions, Texting, Useless Lesbians, allura’s obsession with sparkly things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 10:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17527244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rmaowl/pseuds/rmaowl
Summary: There’s a figure in Pidge’s periphery who she doesn’t pay any mind to until seconds later.





	pretty people

Pidge is readying herself for the daunting task of the leaving the house to grocery shop. Allura is sprawled out elegantly on the sectional, a book in hand. A steaming mug of tea sits on the side table, easily accessible.

“Alright, Lulu, I’ll see you later!” She calls, ignoring the twisting anxiety in her stomach. “I love you!”

Allura looks up from her book. “Love you too!” She returns, grinning brightly. “I’d get up to kiss you, but...” She gestures vaguely at her current lapful of mice. Pidge snickers.

“I get it, babe. I’ll make sure to find you something sparkly, okay?”

“Okay,” Allura hums. She directs her attention back to her book, slender fingers maneuvering to flip the next thin page.

Pidge steps through the door, mint green purse slung over her shoulder.

The journey to the grocery store itself is uneventful. It’s what happens _inside_ the grocery store that is a cause for panic. Well, _further_ panic, if Pidge is being honest. Leaving the house is always an ordeal.

She’s meandering the aisles when a pink and green piece of jewelry catches her eye. She approaches it, wide-eyed, thinking _our colors!_ There’s a figure in her periphery who she doesn’t pay any mind to until seconds later. She turns towards them, some random question on the tip of her tongue, but all of that disappears when she takes in this person’s appearance. Her heart rate ratchets up. Her mind melts. Her cheeks burn.

“Um,” she says uselessly. What she says next is a breathless little murmur. “You’re beautiful.”

Against all odds, it’s still heard by this other person.

Their mouth falls agape, lips coated in a sleek black lipstick. Their hair is in tight curls. Their blush is ruddy and red-orange.

“You’re very cute yourself,” they say quietly, voice slightly squeaky. It’s not what Pidge would expect from someone who looks so intimidatingly beautiful, towering over her figuratively and literally.

“I’m Pidge,” she stammers out. This could go nowhere. This could crash and burn. She does it anyway. “She/her pronouns.”

“Shay,” they respond, smiling softly. Their voice is raspy and gentle. It makes Pidge’s heart skip a beat. “I use she/her/hers as well.”

“Cool,” Pidge says awkwardly, twisting her fingers, cracking her knuckles. Her heart is pounding. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t function properly around pretty people.”

“How do you live with yourself?” Shay gasps, her tone light and teasing. Pidge’s face goes even redder.

“Um.” Pidge’s phone buzzes from inside her purse, pressed against her hip. “Sorry, hold on.”

Allura’s wondering where she is. Pidge takes in the time with abstract horror. Pidge is also suddenly struck by the fact that polyamory isn’t what one would consider par for the course. She dies a little inside, then, shooting Allura a panicked text.

Allura responds levelheadedly, of course, but not before ribbing her for how utterly gay she is. She advises Pidge to ask Shay if she knows what polyamory is first and then go from there. She slips her phone back into her purse and faces Shay.

“I’m polyamorous,” Pidge blurts out. The spontaneity of the admission shocks her. She shrinks, switching abruptly to staring at the ground. “Do you, uh, do you know what that means?”

“Yes,” Shay says, and Pidge can hear the smile in her voice as she continues. That’s unexpected, to say the least. “Were you texting a partner, perhaps?”

“Allura,” Pidge confesses meekly. She adjusts her glasses. “She’s my girlfriend.” A pause. “Are you... weirded out? It’s fine if you are. I can go.”

“No,” Shay rushes out, “don’t leave. I... I might be polyamorous myself, actually.” She smiles down at Pidge. “Would you like to exchange numbers? Perhaps you could add me to a group chat with your girlfriend, if the two of you are comfortable.”

“You’re _perfect,_ ” Pidge breathes out, awestruck. “You took that _in stride._ Damn.”

Shay grows flustered, gently shoving her shoulder.

Soon enough, Shay’s phone is in Pidge’s hands and vice versa. Pidge still can’t believe her luck. Numbers are typed out and contact names are chosen.

"Feel free to change it,” Shay says a tad breathlessly, blushing. “I know it's dumb.” She passes Pidge's phone to her, taking back her own phone.

Pidge glances down and is immediately blessed with the sight of the contact name picked. _Shay, Your New Bae,_ with each word capitalized. A strand of green, nature-based emojis follow.

“You’re _perfect,_ ” Pidge emphasizes, insistent. Shay squeaks.

* * *

"Well?" Allura demands, eyes bright, as Pidge re-enters the house. Her book has been entirely abandoned, left askew on the arm of the couch. "What happened? I want all the details!"

Pidge flushes furiously, shrinking further into her jacket. She plops down on one of the stools in the kitchen, setting her jangling keys down on the counter. The stool is firm and uncomfortable under her. If she tries to hop down, breaking her legs is a distinct possibility.

"I, um, her name is Shay."

**Author's Note:**

> three noun prompt: anxiety, opportunity, stool  
> dialogue prompt: “well? what happened? i want all the details!"


End file.
